


Valkyrie

by Antipode



Series: I Was Lost Without You [1]
Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Biotic Shepard (Mass Effect), Coming of Age, Custom Shepard (Mass Effect), F/F, Interspecies Awkwardness, Interspecies Relationship(s), Interspecies Sex, Lesbians in Space, Mild Smut, Military Training, No Lesbians Die, POV Shepard (Mass Effect), Paragon Shepard (Mass Effect), Pre-Canon, Spacer (Mass Effect), Training Camp, War Hero (Mass Effect)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-07 15:53:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26890201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Antipode/pseuds/Antipode
Summary: 2172: A (very) young Sybilla Reem Shepard is sent to harness her prodigal biotic powers on Thessia through the Citadel's Valkyrie program and fights to earn her place among the legendary huntresses of the Serrice Guard.
Series: I Was Lost Without You [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1937521
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	1. We Shall Keep Her

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sybilla makes a first impression on her new CO.

Her breath came in ragged gasps. Her vision swam, blurred by rivers of sweat pouring off her forehead. Every part of her ached; her knees weak, her legs turned to jelly, her arms trembling. Just the effort of keeping her shoulders up seemed insurmountable, as if she were supporting a dreadnought on her back. Her veins pumped battery acid and her lungs were filled with sulfur and brimstone.

“On your left, girl-human,” a melifluous voice lilted past, speaking slowly and clearly, as if to a child. The slim, trim asari jogged past her at an almost leisurely pace, barely perspiring despite the summer heat and the layer of leather she wore from collar to ankle. Her violet Clan-markings glinted beneath Parnitha’s rays. She thought she saw something resembling sympathy in those grey eyes before she passed her, catching up to the other commandos. Leaving her at the back of the group.

Again.

 _I fucking hate this planet,_ Shepard thought, eyes brimming with angry tears as she tried to find another gear, another reservoir of strength within her. As she promised herself she wouldn’t be last on this run. Again.

“You are the girl-human the Council has seen fit to send me?”

Shepard had been standing at parade rest for what felt like hours, and she was already tired. She’d trained in higher-gravity situations before while on Titan, but only for shortened time periods, and in the cold of a gravity-modified chamber. On this humid ocean-world with its scorching sun and its long days, where even the summer nights were blisteringly hot, it felt like she’d run a marathon just going from the landing port to her billet, from her billet to the transport depot where she was shuttled to this training camp, high in the Seyxethea mountain range above the city-republic of Serrice. And then, to an empty field surrounded by stately coniferous trees, silhouetted by sweeping snow-topped peaks under a crystal blue sky, where she’d been told to stand and await her new CO, Captain Gadera. So she’d stood, and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Until finally, the asari had arrived seemingly out of thin air. 

Shepard had seen a few asari before. As a girl, she’d always been fascinated by the sinuous, sloe-eyed, luminous-skilled creatures in the vids, the starlet posters in her room, the curious, poorly-phrased extranet searches that no doubt gave her mother an inkling of her preferences long before that awkward conversation as a teenager. And since she’d enlisted - had lied about her age and enlisted two years before she was truthfully eligible - she’d been to various clubs and bars on shore leave, and had seen her share of asari dancers with the rest of the marines.

 _These_ asari were _not_ those asari.

Shepard was a tall woman; taller than most of these aliens, for certain. And since enlisting, she’d taken good care of her body, though she had yet to fully fill out her frame with muscle despite her best efforts. Still, she was consistently in the top of her classes in both coordination and raw physical ability, even before the genetic tinkering of her Class-A Alliance Infantry Upgrade Package began to kick in. She was in peak physical condition, and rightfully proud of it.

And she could already tell these asari could run laps around her.

They moved with an easy, almost arrogant grace, seeming to slide and float across the grass biotically rather than any particular exertion of their long, shapely legs. And yet Shepard could see the coiled spring within each and every one of them; the way their eyes never remained in one place for longer than a blink, the way their hands swung low and easy and never strayed far from the pistols and short blades they strapped to their thighs, the way they never seemed to present their backs to each other. These were warriors, killers, dyed in the wool, and despite being a biotic prodigy, a natural soldier, and among the most promising recruits into the Alliance Navy in decades, Shepard felt a great deal like a housecat among lions.

The asari fell into a loose collection around her, a score or so, mingling with a comfortable familiarity. Each of them wore a skintight suit of leather, covering them from neck to boot, lovingly crafted, and inscribed with what Shepard surmised to be Clan and family markings. They looked to be sweltering hot - Shepard was perspiring freely under the Thessian sun in just her BDUs, wishing for a tank-top and athletic shorts. A few of the commandos stretched out onto the grass, twisting and flexing into yoga-like poses that hurt Shepard’s joints just to watch. Others stood and chatted with each other. Most entirely ignored the human in their midst.

One; stocky by asari standards, with skin of a deep indigo and her Clan-markings in white chalk-paint looking like a handprint on her face, strode toward her. Arms folded, she made a show of looking Shepard up and down, very nearly a leer.

“You are the girl-human the Council has seen fit to send me?”

Resolving to make a good first impression, she snapped a smart salute. “Lance Corporal Shepard, Earth Systems Alliance, reporting for duty as instructed, ma’am.”

“Archon.”

Confusion flickered in Shepard’s eyes. “Ma’am?”

“You will address me as ‘Archon’ or ‘Archon Gadera,’ not as ‘ma’am,’ girl-human.” Her voice could freeze a glacier. “This is not Arcturus. This is Serrice. Do you speak the High Tongue? Ricce?”

 _Ricce?_ She furrowed her brow. “No, Archon, I do no-”

“You will learn,” Gadera promised. “You will not sully the air of these sacred mountains with your human-speech. Today you may retain your translator. Tomorrow you will disable it.”

“Yes, Archon,” she gulped.

The asari was pacing around her. The other commandos continued to ignore her.

“How old are you, girl-human?”

She paused. “Eighteen, Archon.”

A scornful laugh. “Are the Alliance so desperate for soldiers they send me children? I have shoes older than you, girl-human. Tougher, too.”

Shepard made no reply. Her cheeks burned. She took a deep breath, squeezing her hands at her sides.

“I asked you a question, girl-human.” The Archon had stopped pacing. “You will answer.”

“No, Archon.”

“No, you will not answer?” The asari had an infuriatingly smug look on her face. “Or no, I do not have shoes older and tougher than you? Or no, humanity is not so weak that they must send me children to become soldiers, but they do so willingly, by choice?”

“Humans aren’t weak, Archon.”

The asari planted her hands on her hips. Looking up at the tall, lanky human, she jeered. “Show me.”

Wordlessly, Shepard dropped her shoulder-bag and shrugged out of her jacket. She hopped on the balls of her feet, bringing her hands up, rolling her shoulders. A cold fury gripped her heart, but her eyes flashed with defiance, and something akin to joy. She was millions of light-years from the planet her mother had been born on, she was surrounded by aliens in a strange land, she didn’t speak asari - or Ricce, whatever dialect that was - could barely comprehend where she was, what she was doing here, or why. But this? Prove her worth? Prove she deserved to be here? That she could do.

She bounced for a second or two, watching the asari’s eyes, waiting for her to ready herself in some way. The arrogance of the Archon galled her as she remained perfectly, placidly still, expectantly. Lip curling, Shepard suddenly lunged forward, right hand upraised. It was a feint; she wanted to see what the asari would do. Already her left hand was prepared to throw a punishing jab, and she kept her weight on her back foot in anticipation of levelling a low, sweeping kick. _Let’s see what you’ve got, Archon_ , she thought…

… and then let out a surprised grunt when both of her legs shot out from under her as a blue-white glow enveloped the asari. Nausea threatened to overwhelm her as the mass effect field neatly wrapped her up and flipped her upside down, flailing limbs and all. Gadera had scarcely moved, had merely brought two fingers in her left hand up in an almost imperceptible gesture.

Reacting quickly, Shepard brought both her arms forward in an X, throwing up the strongest barrier she could to break the grasp. Dark, rippling blue flowed over her like a second skin, and there was an impact to the air like shattering glass. She felt herself falling, tucked herself into a roll, and had scarcely hit the grass before she was springing to her feet, before she was launching herself at the asari with a flying knee.

And then Shepard felt something behind her other knee, vaguely felt something grasp her arm, heard a wet _pop_ , and had precisely one half-second to reflect that her right arm was not supposed to bend in that manner before she was sickeningly upended, face down on the grass, with white-hot lances of pain screaming through her side as her limb splayed out uselessly next to her. She screamed, blood thundering in her ears as she writhed on the ground, clutching at her dislocated arm. She hadn’t even seen Gadera move this time.

“Are you finished, girl-human?” the asari asked. She was inspecting the back of her nails, not even looking at the soldier stifling pained whimpers at her feet.

_The fuck I am._

Snarling in rage as much as agony Shepard forced herself to her feet, pushing herself upwards with her good hand and propelling her momentum into a spinning kick, aimed at the woman’s hateful neck. Unbalanced only a little as the kick hit nothing but air, she spun again, trying to drive her elbow toward the asari’s gut. She completed about half of her turn before she felt a set of powerful fingers seize her by the throat. Flinty grey eyes glanced down at her impassively as she flailed and choked, as her face turned first red, then purple, as her veins bulged in the sides of her temples.

“Submit, girl-human. Stop wasting my time.”

A fuzzy darkness began to creep in along the edges of Shepard’s vision. One-handed, she couldn’t pry the asari’s iron fingers from her throat, no matter how hard she tried. She could feel her consciousness fading. Gadera’s merciless gaze was like staring down the barrel of a dreadnought’s mass accelerator cannon.

She saw the knife at the asari’s thigh.

With everything left in her, she lunged desperately for the blade. Her hands closed over the hilt, feeling the silver crescent on the handle press against her palm, felt how easily it slid out the sheath, as she threw all her remaining strength into drawing the asari’s weapon.

And then Gadera’s forehead descended with the speed and finality of a meteor, smashing into the bridge of Shepard’s nose with a wet _crunch_ , and she crumpled with a twitch and a gurgle. She slipped mercifully into unconsciousness.

There was a moment of silence from the other asari before two detached from the group with slight sighs of resignation. Cradling the human’s limp form, one began to massage her dislocated shoulder back into place with surprising gentleness while the other applied medi-gel to the quickly-forming bruises over her throat and to her now re-broken nose. Gadera glanced down, failing to conceal the look of amusement across her face. She couldn’t remember the last time a recruit of _any_ species had attempted to pull her own knife on her.

“Archon?”

The maiden working on the human’s arm looked up at her, quizzically. “Shall I send for a transport to take the girl-human back, like the others?”

Gadera inspected a small tear on the sleeve of her commando leathers. There was a tiny nick, where the girl-human had drawn a single drop of blood. She raised the hand, squeezing the wound to show the others. There were whispers and nods of approval.

“No, Initiate Laissha. I like this one. I believe we shall keep her.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glossary of IWLWY canon:
> 
> Seyxethea (seh-ZETH-aya) - a snow-capped mountain range above the city-republic of Serrice, one of the highest and largest on Thessia.
> 
> Ricce (REE-kay) - asari High Tongue regional dialect of Serrice, one of the Ten Clans of Thessia.
> 
> Archon (AR-kon) - asari military rank roughly equivalent to Captain; responsible for a unit of huntresses.


	2. The First Step

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard works hard to keep up with the commandos. Gadera sets her upon the Path.

They slid through the forest like three fish slipping upstream.

Tree, to rock, to tree, to across open patches between a copse and a hill, with scarcely a snapped twig or disturbed leaf, the three soldiers seemed to move as one, melting into the dappled mid-afternoon shade of branch and bough, crossing a dry riverbed at a leap as if it were scarcely there. Mottled leathers and dun-painted skin broke up their outlines. The rest was all speed, all skill - so quick were they, so adept at their woodcraft, nobody would ever see them, unless they were specifically looking.

Shepard was specifically looking.

Huddled down behind a moss-covered trunk a few hundred feet away, herself nearly invisible in woodland-patterned BDUs, she scarcely dared to breathe as she tore herself away from her rifle-scope. A pair of asari loomed behind her at a crouch, looking to her mud-and-greasepaint-covered face expectantly. She held up three fingers, flashing a series of hand-signals indicating their quarry’s direction.

The asari looked at her, then at each other.

 _Shit. Alliance hand signals,_ she groaned inwardly.

The taller and bluer of the two asari - _Shaeesly, I think?_ \- murmured something to her indigo companion - her _name is Noreezse_ \- and hopped down to where Shepard was crouched, waggling her fingers and saying something in a soft, lyrical trill. Ever since Archon Gadera had commanded her to turn off her translator, she had been really, actually _hearing_ the asari dialect they called ‘Ricce,’ and she’d made little progress identifying any recognizable patterns. Not that a part of her wasn’t enjoying listening to these fierce, beautiful warrior-women speak in a tongue that sounded like water trickling through rushes, like wind playing at the tips of leaves. Shaeesly repeated herself, and Shepard blinked in silent confusion for a moment before she pieced together what the commando wanted and passed her the rifle.

The asari peered into the trees for a few silent moments before a sharp intake of breath made it plain she’d found their targets. She whispered something to Noreezse and passed the rifle back, unslinging her shotgun - but not before giving Shepard an appreciative pat on the shoulder. She did her best to conceal her pride and followed the two commandos out of the hollow, trying to still her breath as she’d been taught, trying to watch her footfalls to avoid giving away their position.

They made it as far as the dry riverbed before the ambush was sprung.

Shepard heard the branch snap a second before Noreezse slammed her elbow into her sternum, bowling her over - and dropping her head out of the path of a whining shot. Shepard hadn’t seen a muzzle flash, had scarcely had time to register the presence of the sniper, and cursed herself inwardly as the two commandos, ducking into whatever cover they could find, murmured at each other in voices like water trickling over rocks. She wished desperately she could understand them. Tapping Noreezse’s calf in thanks, she forced herself to a shooting position, her rifle sweeping the seemingly-empty trees, eyes scanning for likely shooting angles. They quickly settled on an outcropping of rock, shadowed by a thick overhang of pine.

 _That’s where I’d be_ , she thought, and quickly pumped the trigger. Her rifle cracked, and the rock disintegrated in a shower of powder. A shadowy shape seemed to flow out of the debris cloud and was moving at a dead sprint nearly faster than she could follow with her eyes. She fired twice more, cursed as she missed, and was lining up a third shot when a roiling field of biotic energy swept the figure off her feet, leaving her dangling and helpless. Shepard took her time, felt the trigger pull as light as a feather, felt the rifle kick against her shoulder, and was rewarded by a crackle of electricity and an outraged yelp. She grinned as she glanced up towards Noreezse, and felt a slight flush as the golden-eyed asari flashed her a wink.

She was still idly pondering that wink several hours later, huddled in largely the same position, trying to conserve her body heat and doing her best to ignore thirst, hunger, and a lack of feeling creeping up her lower limbs. The mid-afternoon warmth had given way to a slightly cool evening, and with the evening had come the rain. Shepard was nearly knee-deep in mud, having picked a shallow ditch to conceal herself within. Noreezse and Shaeesly shot her questioning glances from time to time, themselves nearly invisible through a mixture of mud and moss, their own fighting positions much drier and more elevated. They hadn't sighted the other two asari from their opposite squad, doubtlessly still lurking within the trees, waiting for them to break cover. It was a waiting game, now.

 _Too bad these asari have had a hundred plus years on me to develop their patience_ , she grumbled inwardly.

Shepard was as good a shot as any, was capable enough at fieldcraft to at least keep up with these commandos in the field, but had never possessed the kind of hunter's patience that these situations demanded. She itched for a stand-up fight, for the kind of close-quarters brawl where she could put the strength of her biotics to use. Then she thought about her fight with Gadera.

 _On second thought,_ she grimaced, _maybe trying to go toe-to-toe with centuries-old biotic commandos isn't such a good idea._

A soft, trilling bird-call caught her ear. Shaeesly, perched amidst the roots of an overturned tree, primeval in its size and breadth, was staring at her, flashing hand-signs. She pointed at Shepard, mimed closing her eyes, then to herself and Noreezse, and propped her eyes open with her fingers.

 _So we're going to be here awhile. All night, likely._ Suppressing a groan, she shook her head, then pointed back to Shaeesly, then to Noreezse, then to herself, before upturning her palm, an asari gesture she'd picked up on that seemed equivalent to asking permission. Shaeesly cocked her head questioningly, as if seeking confirmation. It seemed even asari huntresses didn't like taking third rest, and they seemed surprised she'd volunteer.

 _The hell if I'm going to be the soft girl-human that cries out of third rest,_ she thought pridefully, and nodded. Shaeesly shot a sideways glance and a shrug towards Noreezse before shifting her body ever so slightly. In the evening gloom of the misty rain and muck, she very nearly disappeared when she closed her eyes. 

Shepard shifted her weight to try and work some of the pins and needles out of her legs, and settled in. It was going to be a long, cold, wet night.

  
  


_Focus. Control._

Shepard's eyes narrowed. A bead of sweat dripped down her nose. Blood and eezo thundered in her ears, and she could feel the slightly painful pinpricks of her biotic amp digging into her brain. Around her, the air crackled and swirled with a torrent of energy.

 _Focus_ , the echo of her turian biotics instructor snarled in her mind's ear. _Control._ She extended a trembling arm, twisting her hand in a mnemonic pattern so familiar to her by now.

_Focus. Control._

The flower exploded in a shower of petals and particulate.

"Fuck!"

The young soldier snarled in irritation, unwilling to look her superior officer in the eye. Around them, a dozen irssal blossoms lay in ruin; a path of destruction carved by a child's tantrum. The other asari were sprawled out on the cool grasses around her, politely ignoring both failure and outburst as they caught their breath from the morning's run.

Shepard took a deep breath and turned to her teacher, head down, right palm upraised in a gesture she had since learned was more of a formal act of contrition than a request for permission. In stilted, poorly-accented Ricce, she forced her too-human lips and tongue to accommodate the trilling, lyrical asari language.

 _"Your forgivingness, I implore, Honored Teacher,"_ she managed, or at least hoped she managed.

 _"Forgiveness,"_ Gadera corrected, but not unkindly. _"So formal, girl-human. You speak like a suitor, asking permission to marry my daughter_." 

Shepard's cheeks reddened. Mayassla had given her a language primer VI to help her speak and understand the Serrice tongue after a painfully difficult few weeks of awkward hand-signs and misunderstandings. It had taken her several additional weeks to learn that the particular language primer she'd been working off was an archaic dialect generally reserved for historical vids and romance novels. It had certainly explained the snickers and guffaws that inevitably accompanied her attempts at speaking.

 _"You are still trying to assert control, initiate,"_ Gadera's arms were folded, her voice stern. _"My'yaze requires surrender. You must unlearn what you have learned. Seek emptiness."_

Shepard took another deep breath. The asari technique of biotic control was entirely unlike what she'd been taught at BAaT, entirely opposite to the rigorous discipline and control the turians and humans that had tried and failed to contain her raw, untameable strength had attempted to impose upon her. Eezo was in their food, their water, their very blood - the asari had no need of biotic amps, of specialized training programs. To an asari, biotic power was akin to breathing. She felt like a child, trying to re-learn to walk.

 _"Close your eyes,"_ Gadera intoned, and Shepard did as she was bidden. _"Close your eyes and repeat the mantra with me."_

She sought the calm center within.

 _"The world is not the world,"_ Gadera's voice was soft; a whistling wind in her ear.

 _"The world is not the world,"_ she breathed.

 _“My hand is not my hand.”_ The air stilled, slowed. Her pulse crept to a halt. The thunder in her ears quieted.

 _“My hand is not my hand._ ”

 _“My will is not my will.”_ All around her, Shepard could feel the breeze trickle through the boughs, could feel the warmth of Parnitha rippling through the cool grass, could feel the trickle of a stream through moss-covered rocks.

_“My will is not my will.”_

_“Seek emptiness,”_ Gadera cooed into her ear. She could feel the asari’s fingertips on her shoulder. _“Seek eternity. Seek the stillness within.”_ Gentle hands lifted her arm at the elbow, ever so slightly. _“Surrender yourself to it, child. Feel it surround you. Feel it bind you.”_

Goosepimples trailed up her spine. She could feel tendrils of biotic power swirl about her; but it was not the fury, the raging storm she embraced, but a gentle caress. It felt like slipping into a warm bath.

_“Let go, child. Give yourself to the stillness.”_

Her breath was the stillness of a woman asleep. She couldn’t feel her implant anymore, couldn’t feel the soreness of her legs, the sweat on her brow. What is and was ‘Shepard’ had begun to lack clarity.

_“Do you feel it? The blossom is not the blossom. Your hand is not your hand. There is no blossom. There is no ‘you.’ There is only the stillness. There is only eternity.”_

She could no longer feel the breeze through the boughs, hear the trickle of water through the rocks. She _was_ the breeze, _was_ the boughs. She was Parnitha, she was the rays of sunlight, she was the dew-laden grass. She was the roots of the trees digging into the cool loam, the bark basking in the afternoon warmth, the leaves upturned to drink in the sun’s rays. She was the water and the rocks. She was the irssal blossom, floating in Gadera’s fingertips.

 _“Now… spread the petals as though you would spread your fingers._ ”

She spread her fingertips apart, and felt the petals of the flower spread with them. She exhaled. It was light, airy. Her body was a feather, a wisp of cloud, a mote of dust suspended in a gentle breeze. Her eyes slid open, and felt a pang of regret as feeling began to slowly slip back into her body, into her mind. The violet petals of the blossom drifted away, filling the air with the scent of wild honey and pomegranate.

Shepard became aware of the other asari standing, watching her intently. There were quiet nods of approval, tight-lipped smiles. Noreezse flashed her a golden-eyed wink.

Gadera took a step backwards and eyed the human, her expression unreadable. After a moment, she gave the tiniest of nods. _“You have taken your first step upon the Path, Initiate Shepard.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Huntress Cadre:  
> Archon Mierme Gadera (MEER-may ga-DEER-ah)  
> Peeress Shaeesly M'liori (SHAY-slee muh-LEE-or-ee)  
> Peeress Heyxala M'tofi (hey-ZALA muh-TOW-fee)  
> Initiate Noreezse Laissha (nor-EES la-EESHA)  
> Initiate Mayassla Skatari (may-ASS-la ska-TAR-ee)  
> Initiate Laeesme Arteius (lay-ES-mee ar-TAY-is)  
> Initiate Sybilla Shepard (si-BILL-ah SHE-pard)
> 
> Glossary of IWLWY canon:
> 
> Irssal (ear-SAHL) - a violet blossom native to Thessia.
> 
> My'yaze (mee-YAH-zay) - the asari discipline of biotic control. Rooted in Athame doctrine, it is a near-religious practice that also makes up the foundation of the modern asari faith of Siari (SEE-arr-ee), vaguely translated as "All is One." Practitioners of both My'yaze and Siari both agree upon the core principles of the universe as a consciousness, every life within as an aspect of the greater whole, and death as a merging of one's spiritual energy back into the greater universal consciousness.


End file.
